


Up Against The Wall

by fourfreedoms



Category: Mad Men
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourfreedoms/pseuds/fourfreedoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a porny little interlude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up Against The Wall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maypirate](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=maypirate).



e has loved Peggy. And needed her. But he has never wanted her until the moment he laid his hand over hers with the sun streaming in his window.

And then he was seeing her, maybe for the first time, blue eyes like the Pacific Ocean in sunshine. And then he couldn't unsee her. She'd bring a drink to her mouth, or her hand would tighten around the brandy decanter, and he'd think things he thought about women who were made for that sort of thing.

Peggy was not made for that sort of thing. But then neither would he have said he was made for that sort of thing and he definitely was, like the whoreson he was born. Her boyfriend or fiance, whatever the hell he was, looked like the sort of person who could only imagine poking a girl a few times before passing out. He figured Peggy was just bloodless, all she needed out of a relationship was company, not passion, or lust, or orgasms.

But that moment when he set his hand over hers, he realized he was only seeing what she was so desperately trying to convince herself. Peggy wanted passion and lust and orgasms, but she was horrified of them. And herself.

And then, because he's a contrary son of a bitch who can never do the right thing, or the good thing, or even the thing that will make things easier for himself and everybody else, he wants to be all those things for her. It fills him with loathing. Because he will ruin her. And like all times he tells himself he will stop, he will exercise some self-control, he fails entirely.

One moment they're shouting at each other about vacuum cleaners and the next he's thrusting her back against wall and hitching her legs around his hips and she is running her fingers through his hair and swearing at him like only the best sunday school girl can. She's wearing trousers, which on the one hand makes it easier, because he can kiss her and grind against that secret place of hers without shoving eighteen layers of skirt aside, but on the other makes it infinitely more difficult, because he wants her up against this wall, standing up, and he can't just shove her panties aside and push in.

They compromise, she wrestles with her trousers, while he growls and shoves her back against the wall with another hard thrust that actually pushes the air out of her lungs and she says his name in a vicious pissed off voice that he's never heard from her, but perversely just makes him harder.

And then he's sliding into her, yes, with a condom on, because she told him while he was fishing in his pockets for one that she would kill him if he didn't have one and then swearing at him how he's disgusting when he did. But there was a smile about her face with that last, one that anger and horniness couldn't hide.

He finally thrusts inside her with her pants hanging off one leg and her flimsy cheap panties shoved aside.

"Hurry up, hurry up," she says as he mouths at her neck. She's frantic they'll get caught, but not enough that she'll stop this.

"Shut up," he says, voice thick with exasperation and then bites her shoulder through her shirt.

And then he's tugging his arm out from under her and using all his weight to keep her against the wall while he holds her open for him. "Oh, oh, oh," she says as his cock scrapes over her clitoris every time he punches into her. "This--" she starts and then breaks off.

"This is why you shouldn't fuck little boys," he replies, scathing.

"I fucked Duck," she retorts, voice dripping acid.

He can't help but laugh, deep chuckles that seem to well up from the pit of his belly, the same place his orgasm is building. She doesn't see the humor it or she does, but she's too busy worrying over getting caught and concentrating on the things he's doing to her. He decides it's the latter. He kisses her on the mouth and then gets his hand between them.

She lets go of him, clawing at the wallpaper and making these great gasping noises and that's when he knows he's got her. And the fact of Peggy's orgasm, not the contractions she's making around his dick, are what push him over. And he knows he's stuck now, because while she's untangling them, and trying to set things back to rights, back to normal, all he wants is to do it again.


End file.
